


Newton's Cradle

by KipRussel



Series: faden in (or: how i learned to cry about dylan a lot) [1]
Category: Control (Video Game)
Genre: (Dylan's opinion of her isn't yet soured), 10 year old Dylan, Darling is gonna help this kid as much as he can, Dylan's trying to adjust to his new life and looking for some degree of friendship, Gen, Marshall is also here but not enough to warrant a character tag I think, congrats casper you've been assigned parental figure!, is keeping an orphaned 10 year old in their sketchy facilities, many attempts to justify the fact that a government entity, mentions of polaris, some kinda introspective thoughts on what the older FBC might've been like, thank u beta readers i lov u, the FBC doesnt know the difference between a 10 year old and a 7 year old
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-20
Updated: 2021-01-20
Packaged: 2021-03-18 10:20:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,399
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28865430
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KipRussel/pseuds/KipRussel
Summary: Darling is pulled from his winding train of thought at the sound of the door latch opening. It’s gentle, nearly inaudible— a hesitation at the initial sound, followed by a careful, slow creak of the hinges as the door pushes open a crack. He turns to look over his shoulder, expecting janitorial staff, or a new research hire. Instead, he watches a set of small fingers curl around the edge of the door, followed by a mop of auburn hair, and timid blue eyes. Darling blinks in surprise.“Dylan?”The boy flinches backwards, before pushing the door open a bit further. He steps in slowly, letting a hand linger on the edge of the door until he can’t reach it anymore, before letting it swing shut.“Hi, Dr. Darling,” he says quietly.
Relationships: Casper Darling & Dylan Faden
Series: faden in (or: how i learned to cry about dylan a lot) [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2089236
Comments: 16
Kudos: 15





	1. Chapter 1

Darling has long worn out the joke about how the Oldest House truly is his home. The overtime hours started to look like his regular hours a long time ago, between the couches turned beds and the amount of his stuff he’d moved to his office. He’d wager a guess that his apartment was more bare and unlived in than his office was. Heck, even one of the satellite labs probably saw him more than his actual living space.

He hazards a glance at the clock— 10:32pm— before turning back to his work. Not his latest night, by any stretch of the imagination, but dayshift is definitely already long gone. It’s all nightshift and skeleton crews now, unless Luck and Probability are still studying those Lucky Cats; in which case, they’ll probably be here just as late as him. He might have to swing by and lend a hand, if focusing on his work here gets too difficult.

Really, everyone’s been a bit busier than normal. Ever since they obtained the slide projector. Ever since the Prime Candidate program gained a brand new member, and the House, a brand new resident.

Darling sets his pen down as his mind wanders. Dylan Faden. Youngest member of the FBC family (though, family is a stretch. Trench is keeping his distance, and Darling understands why, and can’t decide how he feels about it). A ten year old in the Oldest House. All the debate around where to let him stay was just bells and whistles, and he knew it. Where could they take him, besides letting him stay in a room in the building? Who would he live with otherwise? How would they get him to the House every day?

Trench insisted that he join the Prime Candidate program, and the sister, too, if they could find her. They’ve barely scratched the surface, but both Darling and Trench can see the promise here. Ordinary was almost like a gift. Extraordinary, if Darling allows himself some cheesiness (and he does). 

It’s certainly not extraordinary for Dylan, at least in a positive way, though it could be. Darling tries not to dwell on the upsetting parts he’s heard and read (watching a teacher die, losing parents, whisked away to somewhere new and unknown after a personal encounter with an AWE,) and instead on what would be exciting to him as a kid. The attention, the Altered Items, the chance to be… a superhero. The Bureau certainly could seem like magic to a kid.

He really hopes it seems that way to Dylan. And not some… unknown, horrifying, alien place full of white lab coats and giant obelisk buildings and confusing, mind-bending formations.

He’s a smart kid. Darling can already tell.

(He doesn’t know if that’s good or bad when it comes to feeling comfortable here. Hopefully good.)

Majority of the staff don’t know about him. Trench insisted, and nobody argued. It just makes more sense, to keep it quiet, at least for now. The Ordinary event is largely classified as is. The rumors that would start floating around if low-clearance staff saw a ten year old wandering the halls would be a disaster. Not to mention if anyone tried to ask the poor kid about what happened. It’s only been a month— give or take— and it’s fresh as ever in Darling’s own mind. Dylan was at ground zero. He doesn’t need to be even _more_ overwhelmed by nosey staff.

Darling really hopes they’re doing the right thing. The FBC does seem to be the most equipped to help him. That makes it seem good. Darling makes a silent promise to himself to do the best he can to help out. He’s already sort of helming the Prime Candidate program, with Trench taking a backseat on it. Maybe he can guide the kid, help him settle in. On top of all his other work. And the new OOP. And these stacks of financial requests. And the paperwork from Ordinary Marshall’s been hounding him for. (This is why he always takes overtime.)

Darling is pulled from his winding train of thought at the sound of the door latch opening. It’s gentle, nearly inaudible— a hesitation at the initial sound, followed by a careful, slow creak of the hinges as the door pushes open a crack. He turns to look over his shoulder, expecting janitorial staff, or a new research hire.

Instead, he watches a set of small fingers curl around the edge of the door, followed by a mop of auburn hair, and timid blue eyes.

Darling blinks in surprise.

“Dylan?”

The boy flinches backwards, before pushing the door open a bit further. He steps in slowly, letting a hand linger on the edge of the door until he can’t reach it anymore, before letting it swing shut.

“Hi, Dr. Darling,” he says quietly.

This is… unusual. Darling takes a moment to gather all his thoughts. He takes Dylan in for a moment— mismatched socks, plain sweats, an oversized shirt, all provided by the Bureau. It makes him look smaller than he already is, standing there, shrunk in on himself. His hair is tousled and messy, hanging in front of his tired eyes.

He looks like he’s been crying. Darling’s face falls. Dylan apparently realizes he’s noticed, and hastily rubs his face across his sleeve.

“Hey!” Darling starts, still fishing for a good response to the new face in his lab.

“I— sorry,” Dylan says softly. “I know I’m not supposed to be up.”

“No, it’s fine,” Darling assures him, swinging his chair around to face him fully. “I mean, technically, I’m not either. I’m working overtime,” he smiles.

“Oh. I can leave. If I’m bug— if I’m not supposed to be here,” he replies, hugging one arm close to his side with the other.

“You can stay, Dylan. You must’ve come in here for a reason, right?” Darling says in what he hopes is a friendly tone, gesturing openly to the lab around him. He pauses, quirking his head to the side. “How… did you get here?” He almost asks ‘did nobody stop you’, but catches himself, not willing to make Dylan feel any more like he’s broken a rule. 

(He has, technically, but Darling doesn’t care, and it doesn’t matter. A crying child in his lab matters more than him wandering the House alone. Probably. Kind of. Okay, it’s a massive rule violation and overall risk. But Dylan’s here now, right? Darling can handle it, so other staff don’t have to worry. As long as nobody finds out and tries to bust the poor kid for breaking the rules instead. And who would find out right now, anyway?)

“I was… looking for you. Or someone. I…” He picks anxiously at the end of his shirt, hanging down toward his knees.

“Are you alright?” Darling asks. Dylan hangs his head, eyes glued to the floor.

“I can’t sleep,” he mumbles, and Darling has to lean forward to hear him, voice quiet. “I keep having bad dreams. The new room is really dark, too. Nobody was outside the door, so I went looking for someone.”

“Oh,” Darling looks around the room for something to offer in comfort, but there’s nothing much comforting about doctoral theses and Astral Plane models, so he pulls out a second office chair, turning it toward him and patting the seat. “I’m sorry. You can stay in here, if you want.” Dylan’s eyes flit upward.

“Can I? I’m not… I’m not bothering—”

“You’re not bothering me,” Darling smiles. “I’m technically done with my shift, remember?”

Dylan scoots forward, light on his feet, making a slow path from the door to the chair, before climbing onto it, tucking his feet underneath him. Up close, Darling can see his face is still wet from tears. He looks away quickly, not wanting to make Dylan uncomfortable (and feeling a bit uncomfortable himself).

“What are you working on?” Dylan asks, mercifully providing a subject change, folding his hands in his lap. “Sorry. Can I ask? Is it confidential?”

“Hm? Oh, all of this stuff?” Darling shoves the papers on the desk back toward the wall. “No, not confidential. It’s just financial papers, budgeting paperwork and stuff like that. Not the most interesting. This isn’t my usual office, just a temp lab. ...How did you find it, by the way? Did you know I was in here?”

Dylan ducks his head, hesitating.

“Just lucky, I guess.” He doesn’t want to talk about how Polaris woke him gently from his replaying nightmare, and guided him down the hall to this door. He doesn’t want to relive those things, or get a list of questions, or new testing. He’s hoping… he’s really not sure what he’s hoping for, actually. A break? Something kind of normal? A friend?

Daring is relieved, almost, to hear his answer. He doesn’t want to have to feel like he has to record this whole interaction, or report it to some higher ups, or study everything the poor kid says. He’s hoping Dylan doesn’t bring anything up about Ordinary, actually. Then he won’t have to wrestle with the guilt of not writing it down for study.

“Well I’m glad you found me. You gotta be careful, you know, there’s a lot of dangerous stuff around the Bureau. That’s the only reason we have the rule that you can’t wander unattended,” Darling lies. It’s a partial truth, really. Dylan also isn’t supposed to be seen by low-level staff.

“Sorry,” Dylan replies sheepishly.

“No worries! Just making sure you’re careful. We don’t want you wandering off into the furnace or something,” Darling jokes, laughing, but quiets when he sees the concerned look on Dylan’s face. “Just kidding, of course. But. Do be careful.”

“...so I can stay? While you work?”

“Sure, for a little while. You don’t think you’ll get back to sleep soon?” Darling shuffles his papers back into place, searching for his misplaced pen.

“I kinda wanna stay up. I can help you with stuff. If you want,” Dylan offers, gently rocking the chair from side to side.

“Hmmm. Well. Financial papers aren’t the greatest option for a ten year old, but I’m sure I can find you something to do. Why do you want to stay up?” Darling asks. _Don’t mention Ordinary, for my sake and yours, kiddo,_ he thinks.

“I just had a bad dream about home again, I guess,” Dylan says calmly, picking at the end of his sock.

_Crap._

“Oh?” Darling asks, gently setting the papers back down.

_This’ll be off the record. I’ll just… pretend it didn’t happen. Confidential. No need to fill all the paperwork out. I’m off the clock. Technically._

“I don’t really want to talk about it,” Dylan mumbles. “It’s hard to remember anyway.”

“That’s fine, we don’t have to talk about it,” Darling smiles, feeling the stress dissipate from the subject change. Dylan looks up at him, eyes wide and still glassy from tears.

“Do you think you’ll find my sister soon? Jesse?”

There’s the stress again.

“I… don’t know,” Darling cringes, meeting Dylan’s eyes, hoping he catches the honesty and sympathy and apology all wrapped into one. “I’d have to ask some field agents. It’s not my department. I’ll let you know, though, if I hear anything,” he offers, knowing full well the promise is empty, but hoping it’ll help Dylan some. What he doesn’t know can’t hurt him, right?

It gets Dylan to smile ever so slightly, so it’s worth it, he thinks, if it helps the kid forget whatever horror’s haunting his dreams.

“Okay,” he smiles softly. “I hope you find her soon.”

“Me too,” Darling answers, leaning back in his chair, tapping his pen against his knuckles. There’s got to be something around here for the kid to do. A Bureau lab isn’t exactly kid friendly, but it has stuff Darling would’ve been interested in at his age. Dylan does kind of remind him of himself. Maybe…

“Hey, have you ever seen a Newton’s Cradle?” he asks suddenly enough to make Dylan snap to attention. He watches as Darling wheels his chair to the other side of the room, scooping one up and coming back to set it on the desk in front of Dylan.

“Yeah. They’re neat,” Dylan smiles, taking one of the balls at the end and pulling it back to let it drop, starting the rhythm of the little toy. “I used to have one. I won it in school during a science lesson. I lost it, though. I think it ended up in a yard sale on accident.” He grabs one of the balls on the upswing, stopping it in its tracks.

“Ah, bummer. I’ve done that. Lost a good bike that way.”

“You accidentally put your bike in a yard sale?” Dylan asks, arching an eyebrow. Darling has to stifle a laugh at the near-sarcastic suspicion Dylan is giving him.

“I was moving out here, and it got placed out with the actual for sale stuff while I drove between my old place and the new one. It got sold while I was in the car.”

“That stinks,” Dylan says, taking two of the Newton Cradle’s balls and pulling them back, starting a new pattern. Two up, two down, two up, two down.

“Yeah. It worked out though. I got some cash out of it and don’t bike much now anyway.” Darling muses, folding his hands on the table, watching the desk toy swing back and forth.

“Can I bring my stuff here?” Dylan asks. “Am I… moving here? Now that I have a room?”

Hard questions. Darling doesn’t know how to answer that. He wishes he could promise Dylan all the stuff that got left back in Ordinary. Maybe a proper room put together for him, and not just a cot in a transformed office. He can already hear Marshall and Trench chastising him for getting attached.

“Ah… didn’t some of the agents bring some stuff for you?” Darling asks, looking for a subject change. Dylan shuffles his feet, swaying from side to side.

“Yeah. Just some books and stuff. But… they...” he trails, like he isn’t sure if he’s allowed to say any more. Darling tries to coax him out of his shell more.

“But they aren’t your favorite type?” he guesses.

“No, they’re okay. They just… they’re…” he shrugs slowly, shrinking in on himself.

“...boring?” Darling tries again.

“No. Kind of. They’re… they’re too young. I’m ten. The books the agents brought are more like… kiddie books. I read them anyway, but…”

 _Ah. Of course none of the agents assigned to this know how to interact with kids,_ Darling laments to himself.

“I’m willing to bet you’re ahead of the curve on books aimed at your age too, huh?”

Dylan can’t help but grin at that.

“My teacher said that sometimes.”

“Makes sense. You’re a smart kid. And a lot better than getting babied by some agents. I’ll talk to them and try and get that fixed,” he taps his pen on the table with a smile, Dylan beaming back at him. Despite the smile, he just shrugs.

“It’s not a big deal.”

“Of course it’s a big deal. I wouldn’t want to read just kindergarten picture books. That’d be pretty boring.” Darling stands up, scanning the shelves and his cluttered desk for something to offer the kid. Something that isn’t doctoral theses and binders filled with redacted documents.

“Do you think I’ll get to go back to school? Not back in Ordinary. But… we were learning about Geometry, and the scientific method, and stuff. It was cool.”

 _School._ Had any of them even thought about that? They’d all been so focused on the Prime Candidate program— parautilitarian training, how to introduce him to concepts like Altered Items and the Astral Plane— had they really forgotten school?

“Sounds like a perfect fit for here,” Darling calls over his shoulder, reaching up to pull some of his personal books off a shelf. “I’m sure we can get someone to pick up lessons with you, if you want. I could teach you some stuff too, if you’d like. The Bureau has a lot of cool stuff to show you that you’d never learn in school,” he grins, sliding some books across the desk. Dylan leans forward tentatively, eyeing the spines, tilting his head to read them. He reads the titles out loud, quietly to himself.

“ _I Robot, Dune, The Hobbit…_ ”

“Have you read any of them?” Darling asks, plopping back down in his chair. Dylan shakes his head, scooping them up in his arms. “They’re some of my favorites. Those are my personal copies.”

“I— can I borrow them?” Dylan asks, setting them in his lap.

“Of course! I think those are more your speed.” Dylan turns _The Hobbit_ back and forth in his hands.

“Why is it… like this?” he asks, squinting at the plain cover. There’s no author name, no publishing info, no pictures, no jacket…

“Ah, well, it’s… I had a copy made, to bring in the Bureau, for nights when I stay here. I didn’t want to risk something being Archetypal and having to get the books re-approved anytime I bring them in.”

“Ar— archetypal?” Dylan asks.

“Oh, right. It… well— it’s a bit to explain. And a bit late in the night for me to try and break it down. But I’ll explain it to you later, if you want.”

“Okay,” he answers, suitably distracted by his newfound task of stacking the books in his lap, looking for one to start with in the pile. “Which one is your favorite?”

“Out of those? Oh, hmm…” Darling leans back, eyes wandering across the ceiling. “I always enjoyed _I, Robot_. Asimov writes a good story. And that one is technically a collection of several.”

“This one?” Dylan holds a little black book aloft, and Darling nods. “I’ll start with this one then.” 

He starts to turn to the first page, but stops suddenly, looking up again.

“...can I stay here and read it? I… it feels… safe. In here.”

 _Oh, goodness_ , Darling thinks, expression softening. _This kid’s gonna kill me._

“Sure,” he responds, turning toward the financial paperwork again, trying to bury his sentimentality in bureaucratics. “I mean, I’m here, so I don’t see how you’re breaking any rules. You have a chaperone, the lab is safe… perfect rule following.”

(He can’t tell if he’s trying to reassure Dylan or himself.)

“Cool,” Dylan smiles, nestling down into the corner of his chair.

“And…” _Don’t do it, Casper, you don’t need to get attached to the kid. He might not even be a proper Prime Candidate. Maybe he leaves in a month._ “...if you ever have a bad dream again. I’m usually in this lab. Or you can just ask a staff member for me. It can be our hangout spot.” _Alright. Failed step one._

“Thanks, Dr. Darling,” Dylan says, blinking heavily, rubbing a palm against his eye.

“Casper’s fine, by the way. Dr. Darling is for coworkers. We’re more like… a camp counselor and a camper.”

“I never went to camp.”

“Ah, well,” Darling frowns at the financial papers and shoves them away, pulling a file on the slide projector up to review. “The Bureau’s more fun than summer camp, anyway.”

* * *

By the time Darling checks the clock again (well past 2am), Dylan has finished _I, Robot_ and started on _The Hobbit,_ only to fall asleep curled up in his chair, fingers still wedged between the pages as a makeshift bookmark. Darling has finished all the work he needed done by this week, and turns to assess the snoozing kid.

He seems to be doing alright now, at least, sleeping soundly. Darling hopes whatever the AWE in Ordinary brought about doesn’t haunt the kid for too long.

He hesitates for a moment, tapping his toe on the floor, before carefully reaching forward to tug the book from his hands. He sleeps through it, and Darling’s careful to keep the page he was on marked, sliding a scrap piece of paper between the pages, tucking it under one arm. Then, carefully, he gathers Dylan up in his arms, still sleeping soundly, and carefully begins the walk back to the kid’s room.

 _Oh, if anybody sees me, I’m never going to hear the end of this,_ he thinks to himself. Though, really, he’s not sure if that’s a bad thing. Dylan needs some adult figures in his life. Some camp counselor types. Something… adjacent to parental. (Darling wouldn’t dare suggest he’s filling a parental role. Though, perhaps he is, he thinks to himself idly.)

He’s nearly back to the office-turned-living space, when he rounds the corner and nearly bumps into Helen Marshall.

“ _Shhh,_ ” he whispers instinctively, making sure Dylan hasn’t woken up, before instantly regretting shushing the ex-CIA agent. He grins sheepishly, hoping he’s some manner of disarming. Or maybe pitiful. _God, I can never get a read on her._

She takes him in for a moment, then the form in his arms.

“Casper,” she greets him plainly. He has no idea what to take from that.

“Hey Marshall,” he whispers.

They both stand in silence in the hallway, waiting for some form of explanation or question from the other.

Darling can’t stand the silence. He has to fill it.

“The kid couldn’t sleep and found my office,” he shrugs. “So he read books there till he fell asleep.”

“You didn’t wake him to walk back?”

“Well, if he hasn’t been sleeping, I don’t want to ruin that.”

She nods slowly.

“He’s staying out of classified and restricted areas?”

“Of course.”

“Besides your office.”

“I, well—” Darling cringes. “To be fair, it’s a satellite lab. And not far from here. Can you blame him? The kid just went through an AWE on his own, and now we’ve stuck him here.”

“Just be careful. We don’t know if he’s even staying in the program yet. The less he knows about us, the better.”

“Right. Of course,” Darling nods slowly. “Well, I—”

“Have a goodnight,” she dips her head slightly, then cooly steps around him, leaving him still sputtering for a response.

“Goodnight,” he whispers, looking over his shoulder, Marshall already long gone.

_Well. That went. Good. I guess._

Dylan stirs slightly in his arms, so Darling picks his pace back up, carefully pushing the door open with his shoulder and carrying the newest Prime Candidate over to the cot in the corner. As he sets him down, Darling catches a glimpse of some of the books and generic toys left by the other agents. He places the books he lent Dylan in the pile.

 _Okay, yeah, we need to talk about that,_ he makes mental note as he eyes books on counting and spelling. _And schooling. And just…_

He stops in the doorway as he’s leaving, standing on the threshold of the room.

_I’ll bring it up at the next meeting. We have to make sure we handle this right._

He pulls the door shut gently behind him.

 _I would’ve loved it here as a kid,_ he reassures himself. _Dylan’s smart, capable. He should fit right in._


	2. Chapter 2

“How am I supposed to study these if there’s all these black boxes blocking out the important parts?” Dylan asks, sitting cross-legged on a bench in the Panopticon. Dr. Darling is flipping through papers on his clipboard, sitting on the bench next to him. Two Rangers are pulling the slats in the wall shut, preventing anyone from seeing into the hallway. Two more are on opposite ends of the hall, pulling down the metal roll up doors, sealing off the section they’re sat in.

“Ah, well. You just don’t have the clearance for those things yet,” Darling says, glancing over at the file in the 11 year old’s hands.

“But if I’m supposed to be prepared for the Astral Plane and all this stuff, shouldn’t I know as much as possible? It feels like some of the black boxes are important.” Dylan looks up at Darling, hoping for some clarity. Darling smiles at him.

“Are you nervous?”

“I— a little bit, I guess,” he admits. “All the guards— Rangers, I mean, don’t really help. I thought they were only supposed to be for AWEs and stuff.”

“There just here for show. Like parades, or… fairgrounds, you know?. You’ll be fine, I promise,” Darling nudges Dylan with his shoulder, who manages a smile. “The Benicoff is perfectly safe. You read the files, yeah?”

“I know. Yeah, I read them. Except for the redacted parts.”

“Well, hey, when you’re Director—” 

Darling doesn’t even realize he’s said it, but the  _ when  _ makes Dylan’s stomach lurch. Whether it’s excitement or stress, he can’t tell. Maybe both.

“—you’ll have access to all those things. And if you ask me,” Darling stage whispers, “sometimes you can just mentally fill in the blank yourself.”

“Can I ask Director Trench, then?” Dylan looks back to the file, idling turning through pages. “If I’m supposed to study to be the Director, wouldn’t he want to give me advice? We still haven’t met,” he says, shoulders slumping. Darling’s face falters before he can catch himself.

“Ah, Z— Director Trench is really busy today,” Darling grins. Dylan has a sinking feeling that that’s just adult code for ‘he didn’t want to come’. “He says hello, though! I’m sure if you have any questions you’d wanna ask, I can answer them.”

“Okay,” Dylan says, staring past the papers in his lap, disappointment apparent in his voice. “A lot of stuff happens around here, huh?”

“That is certainly one way to put it. But hey, chin up, you’ll get a chance to see something levitate today, if all goes well,” Darling elbows him again. Dylan can’t help but grin at the thought of that.

“Do you think I’ll be able to?”

“Maybe! This is your first time trying to bind to an OOP, so it’s hard to predict. It’s like learning to ride a bike, you’ll get better at it over time. And maybe you’re just already good at riding bikes.”

Dylan wants to ask more— about the Astral plane, and the videos they showed him, and the Board, and whether binding with objects hurts, and if he’ll understand how to use the power or not— but another researcher appears in the containment cell doorway and calls Darling away. He nods, tucking his clipboard under his arm as he stands, giving Dylan’s shoulder a reassuring shake, and vanishes through the doorway, leaving Dylan alone with his thoughts and the redacted file.

He gives it another look over— and Darling’s right, there are some redactions here that he can make good guesses at. Some of it is from other things he’s already been taught, or just from context clues. He had thought the Bureau might begin to make more sense, after nearly a year here, but every day just opened up more and more questions with no answers. Or redacted answers.

And honestly? Dylan finds it exciting. Besides the annoyance of being asked to study when half the material is blacked out. That’s some of the fun, too— a mystery he’s trying to solve, but very real. Some of it just comes naturally to him. One scientist told him he had a knack for the paranatural. (Darling then said “para-KNACK-tural”, which made them both laugh hard enough that they could hardly breathe. All the other scientists just rolled their eyes.)

They’re right, though. He really does take to all the material. He feels like he’s just discovered a new hobby, or like a lesson in school just clicked, with perfect clarity— like he’s working with muscle memory, somehow, despite the subject being fiction to him only a few years ago. He takes to it quickly, cruising through tests, discovering his abilities to connect to the paranatural. And it makes all the adults smile and cheer and pat him on the back. It feels great. The attention, the praise. He didn’t get a whole lot of it before. “A bit shy. Doesn’t speak up or interact in class as much”. He remembers one report from his teacher that he took home. (He peeked. He couldn’t help it.) It’s nice to be noticed here.

He can feel it start to get to him, despite it all. Part of Dylan is waiting for the day he doesn’t get it anymore. Maybe he can’t bond to the TV, like they all hope. Maybe the Board doesn’t like him. Maybe his powers aren’t that great. Will everyone sigh and make him study harder? Or just move him out? He doesn’t want to fail. It’s a bit higher stakes than getting a bad report card.

Exciting, but overwhelming. The school nurse told him one year that he had “a propensity to anxiety” years back, after he got sent home for a sick stomach again. Jesse says sometimes anxiety is a good thing, that you can be excited-anxious, and not “oh-crap-I’m-gonna-fail-and-it’s-gonna-suck-and-everyone-will-hate-me” anxious. Dylan’s pretty sure that’s not the scientific term.

He can’t tell which anxious he is. Maybe both. He does love it. He wants to learn more. He wants to make everyone happy. He’s not sure he wants to be Director, but they all say he’ll learn. That's why he’s here, it’ll be okay. He’ll be prepared. Adults always seem to kind of get it. Maybe adults don’t get as anxious as kids.

Dylan wishes there were kids here. He doesn’t mind adults, of course. He’s nearly 13, so he figures he’s getting close enough to adult. (He told Darling that one day, and Darling laughed. Dylan’s not sure why it was so funny.) 

It does get kind of boring, even though some guards play cards with him or teach him games. There’s no movies, no bicycle races, no tag. School is still school, even if it means learning about actual super powers. 

He wonders if they’ll ever find Jesse. Darling let him set a space up for her, in his room, in case she comes to join him soon. It makes his chest ache with a hollow feeling, but its better than not having it there at all. He wants to be ready for her. He can’t imagine not doing this together.

Dylan asked what would happen, if she joined the Prime Candidate program too. Could they be Director together? Darling laughed, and got called away before he could answer.

He misses Jesse. He hopes she’s okay. Somewhere safe, like here, and not lost on her own, stuck somewhere without help or answers. Maybe she found out what happened to mom and dad. Maybe she’s looking for him. He’ll be ready, when they find her.

He asked about the other Prime Candidates, too, to see if there were other kids he just hadn’t met yet. Maybe they were confidential, and he’d have to earn that clearance. A snobby researcher squinted at him and asked him why he thought there were others, and got mad when he pointed to the big “6” on his sweater. She sneered, and he stopped asking.

Maybe if he gets good enough, he can get a job, before becoming Director. Maybe he can be a field agent, and help with AWEs, like Ordinary. Maybe he can find his sister that way. (Maybe he can at least go see the sky again. There’s no windows in the house. But the plants help ease the homesickness some.) Maybe when he gets older, the staff will stop treating him as weird, or special, and just treat him like a coworker, like Darling. Maybe Trench can show him the ropes, before he becomes Director.

Dylan thinks he’ll be ready then. Everyone says he will be. He quietly wishes for it, still lazily scanning the document, hoping some paranatural ability might make it all come true. He'll do it for Darling. For Jesse. To prove he can.

“Hey!” Darling appears in the doorway again, grinning ear to ear. “You ready?”

“As ever,” Dylan smiles slightly, feeling the excitement buzz in his chest. “I’ve kinda always wanted to fly.”

“Perfect,” Darling claps a hand on his back, guiding him toward the OOP’s containment. “You should take right to it, then.”

“Let’s do this,” Dylan glances up at him with a toothy grin, before plunging into the room, hoping his newfound courage carries with him into the Astral Plane.


End file.
